


Liars

by fitzsimmons_with_prosciutto



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: But also, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Marriage, Not a Happy Story, Romance, a bit of both tbh, angsty, fitz and simmons - Freeform, grant and jemma, i honestly dont know how to tag, they are kinda cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fitzsimmons_with_prosciutto/pseuds/fitzsimmons_with_prosciutto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fitzsimmons story about how he couldn't tell her he loved her (at least not in time).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liars

He almost told her he loved her once, when there was still time and she was just three words away from his arms.

It was right after their finals, it's late at night, way beyond curfew, they are freshmen at the Academy and they are so drunk, so beyond drunk, laughing so hysterically he is sure someone is going to see them, lecture them, but they don't, and she says they should try something new, something "that-would-break-all-the-limits" but in reality he is fine with the limits, he likes them, the little fences around him determining where is safe and where is not, and he feels comfortable but she just needs more more _more_ , every time, she is a super-nova-on-the-making, black-hole-on-the-wrecking kind of girl, and he is scared that she will realise that he wont go pass the fences so she will jump them and leave him behind with his own boring self.

\- I love you.- he _almost_ blurts out, fast, so eager to jump fences, to run after her, to hold her hand under the moonlit sky and whisper gentle words into her hair, to tear his skin apart and give it to her if she asks (but she'd never).

She looks at him, and that's it, this is it, this is the moment. It's now.

She is so confident it makes him miss the fences now that he is out in the cold wild open world.

\- Simmons...- he starts, and he is determined, he will tell her, _he will_.

\- What?- she closes her eyes and her fists are clenched so tight he can see her knuckles turning white.

He keeps quiet because he doesn't know, he always knew she hates liars, but he can't, he can't and he likes the fences.

He doesn't feel so happy and bubbly and drunk anymore.

\- Simmons I- the words don't go past his lips and he feels so pathetic he wonders why she'd ever want anything with him.

\- Yes?- her eyes, her lovely brown eyes look straight into his soul and he knows he can't, he can't do it now and he won't (she knows about the fences and it's written all over her face that _she doesn't care_ , but he ignores it) and because he loves her he doesn't say a word and keeps his secret to himself because she deserves _so much more_.

\- I'm glad I met you.

She breathes out slowly (is that a hint of disappointment?) and she turns her back to him and looks at the stars (she used to love looking at the stars).

He stares at her, waiting, waiting, forever waiting (he can't say it first, _he can't_ ), but she never says a thing about it, as if it was a joke that should be forgotten as quickly as it stumbled its pathetic way out of his lips, as if it never happened, as if the moment was already forgotten ( _as if it was nothing_ ) and she reaches for his hands and holds them so close he tries to convince himself this is her way of saying it, her way of jumping her own fences (but her fences are different, they don't protect her from others, they protect her from herself).

The second time, he really tells her (so improvised and so full of anger and hope it's almost good enough), and she hates him with all the fire in her heart and he is saying sorry on repeat because he knows, he knows what he just did, but he couldn't keep it in anymore. She tells him to go away, to never come back, and he does that, because that's the only thing he can do for her that will mean something, that will spell out the "i'm-sorry-i-love-you-i'm-sorry-i-love-you-i'm-sorry-i'm-sorry-i'm-sorry-i-love-you-i'm-sorry" that's fighting its way out of his mind (and because he can't force himself to stay and watch as she marries another man).

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

The first time he sees her, she is crying.

She is hidden behind some of the trees on the Academy's garden and he stares at her, incapable of moving, because then and there he realises she is just like a scared animal (if you move too fast, she'll run away).

She never saw him there, and he leaves before she turns her head his away, he wished he hadn't seen her, hadn't seen her lovely warm eyes leaking and hadn't heard the sobs (three years later, he tells her about it, and she looks at him and says no one was supposed to be there, she was supposed to be alone).

(He can't help but notice how she always pronounces "alone" like it is a curse)

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He never imagined she would fall in love the way she did. He never thought she would be so _literal_ about it.

He can't stop thinking that maybe, if he had managed to untangle that mess of straps (who the hell designed that thing? Parachutes were supposed to be emergency apparel, why are they so bloody difficult to put on?) she would've fallen in love with him.

Not with the bloke that stole the parachute right off his trembling hands.

Not with Ward, of all people.

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He notices in the way she stops looking his way when talking. Usually, she'd stare so deeply into his eyes that he wondered if she could read all the truth in them, if she could see his bare soul and understand and maybe say that she found the love somewhere in there and kiss him tenderly with her lips that, in all his dreams, tasted like peppermint and coffee.

Since that day, the day Ward held her like she was the damsel in distress and he was the knight in shining armour (and damn them for it, but they did look like a bloody couple from a fairytale book), she stopped staring into his eyes when talking. He searched for hers, desperately needing them, but she would just bat her eyelashes and say something about density or hydrogen or ionization and turn around, her hair spiraling like a halo and he was just there, so self-conscious of all his flaws and his inability to say it and her inability of listening to the silent words and screams and pleas surrounding the air around him.

Since then, when they were all together, she didn't look his way, or Coulson's or even Skye's. She stared directly into Ward's eyes.

And who knows, maybe she saw something there, something she never saw in his eyes, because 16 months later, he was standing in the lab while all his world crumbled to pieces right in front of him.

(Maybe Ward had the guts to tell her).

( _Maybe he deserved her more than me_ ).

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

He never cared much for Chemistry (he liked the numbers, the certainty, the invariable facts, not carbons that grew attached to other elements and chains that broke and elements that changed), but she loved it. She loved the "dance" of it, whatever the bloody hell she meant by that.

He eventually ended up learning a few quirky chemistry facts (she collected them like stamps).

He learnt that there are no elements represented by the letter J on the periodic table (and she got so mad, because that was her letter, and okay, maybe he had just an improvised element, but at least he had one).

(He told her he would discover a new one and name it "Jemmatonium").

He learnt that astatine is the rarest naturally-occurring element on Earth's crust. There are only 28g all over the globe.

(He swore he'd get her some).

He learned everything about dopamine, phenylethylamine, serotonin, norepinephrine, oxytocin and vasopressin.

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\- Do you believe in love?- he asks her, ungracefully curious, and she is so confused because she always thought he was the romantic type.

\- It's not love, it's a mix of chemicals. They mess with your brain and they make you different and they can potentially drive you insane. But, all in all, I think it's beautiful. I think everyone should fall in love at least once.

And he doesn't know what to answer so he just hears her listing all the things that she unawarely does to him.

Dopamine, you feel it when the person is there.

Norepinephrine, sweaty palms and pounding heart.

Oxytocin, the cuddle hormone, pleasure released when touching.

Phenylethylamine, you are head-over-heels.

Serotonin, when it drops you start needing to be with the person.

Vasopressin, you are attached.

(And she is laying on top of his books but he doesn't care because they are a week away from graduation and she is playing with his hair and he thought it was vasopressin but apparently they were nothing and he should never have considered it).

(And he hates chemistry).

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When he was little, he used to dream about having a perfect family, about having a mummy and a daddy and a little brother or sister or both and one or two dogs or _okay_ , maybe the dogs were negotiable, and even the brother and the sister, but he wanted a mummy and a daddy and a pretty house and happy dinners and merry christmas' and new years that brought hope, and not the feeling of ' _finally_ '.

But he was never a stupid kid (even when he was three and still too small to sit on the normal chairs, he knew that the empty chair right in front of him should have been occupied but his mummy told him his daddy was ' _a wee late for dinner today sweetie, maybe he got lost_ ' and who knows, maybe his daddy was just wandering outside, looking for his son and so sad he couldn't find him).

( _I'm sad too daddy, please come home and make mummy stop crying and carry me on your arms like all my friends' daddies do_ ).

He was never stupid and the little lies he told himself were running thinner and verging on denial every passing day, until his 14th birthday.

On his 14th birthday, he realised he'd never have the perfect family, because that was his past and God, he might know all the equations, but he doesn't know how to turn back time (he wishes every day he did), so he will have to start his own family, and make it perfect.

And he would never leave like his dad.

(He wouldn't die like his dad).

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The first time they talked, he thought " _holy shit_ ".

He thought "holy shit" and he hated it, because he tried not to curse like that, but _holy shit_.

It was the first week at the Academy, and everyone had already made friends, except for him (like always).

And then her, the girl everyone called weird and rumoured as a chemistry genius (the girl that was crying two nights before) came up to him and said: "Hey, I remembered you are Scottish, and well, I'm British, and they don't have kettles here! So, I was wondering, would you mind if we went out to have some tea?" (her hands were shaking a bit, weren't they?) (were his hands shaking?!) and then she completed (her hands were clearly shaking) ( _are my bloody hands shaking?!_ ) "But not tonight! Doctor Who is on tonight...."

\- You watch Doctor Who?

\- Of course! Do you?

_Holy shit._

(His hands were shaking).

(I'm Jemma).

(I'm Leo).

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The first question he made was " _when_ ".

She was standing right there, holding that idiot's hand and it felt like the bloody _plane_ was  falling and all he could think was **when**.

It had a thousand meanings.

-So this is it, the announcement we had to make. We are-

\- _In love_.- and Ward smiled her way and he felt physically _sick_.

 _When_ did this happen.

\- We are aware of the protocols, so we will be leaving the team.

 _When_ did you stop loving me.

\- We'd like to invite you all to our wedding.

 _When_ are you leaving.

 _When_ did I lose you.

 _When_ could I've ever imagine that it would hurt this bad.

 _When_ did you say  I do.

 _When_ will you kiss me like that.

 _When_ will you get back.

 _When_ will you love me again.

 _When_ will I wake up.

 _When_ will this end.

When when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when when _when_.

(The second question was " _why_ ").

(She looks so puzzled he hears his heart breaking).

(" _Because he saved me_ ").

(He knows in that moment he will never be able to pick all the pieces).

( _ **I** saved you_ ).

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The day she fell he didn't worry for just a second (so _stupid_ it makes him cringe nowadays) because when he saw her there, standing near the edge, the sun making her hair a spiraling mess of blonde strands on the wind and he waited, a second too long (a second he could've spent opening the bloody doors), for her wings to unfold and when she jumped she'd _fly_ high and proud, not _fall_ in fatal certainty of loss.

But she didn't.

When he realised all the rubbish he was thinking, he smashed his fists on the glass door and his heart was pounding against his ribcage, ready to jump after her if necessary (after all, its main job wasn't pumping blood to his body. It was loving her with every beat), and he was yelling and begging and pleading and bargaining and _no Jemma, **no!**_

He tries to deny it for a moment, his brain refusing to process the fact that _Jemma jumped off a bloody plane_ and he was double-checking every ridiculous excuse his mind was making up but none of them seemed realistic enough and pretty soon (not more than three seconds, but three seconds he could've spent doing something) he realised his mind was empty and he was standing alone in an empty lab and he was feeling empty.

He doesn't recall getting the anti-serum, opening the doors, getting a parachute, none of that. He recalls that bloody parachute and its impossibly intricate strap system that he can't fathom how to put on and he hears a loud noise and rude hands snatching the parachute from his hands and he needs to _save_ her.

_But he didn't._

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 _It makes no sense_ , he tells himself.

He repeats it everyday but it never seems realistic.

She's getting _married_ , and he is going to watch it from the front-row.

(Ward asked him to be the _best-man_ and he is sure some deity is laughing of the irony somewhere but in the moment he just wanted to punch that conceited yet much stronger thief that stole Jemma).

 _It makes no sense_.

Jemma is getting married, Jemma is leaving, Jemma is getting married, Jemma is leaving.

It's an equation that doesn't balance out and he doesn't know how he can make it right.

( _Jemma is getting married and it's not to me_ ).

She abandons the team 8 days after the announcement and Ward soon follows.

(Skye helps him find out that they are living together in the New York suburban area and he can just imagine the both of them, a white picket fence, a two-story house, a huge lawn and a big minivan so they can stuff all of their ridiculously good looking kids and the caramel labrador in and he feels betrayed and robbed and _sad_ ).

(He rents a small apartment in the Village after he quits the team, and he tells himself it has nothing to do with her or anything, but he paints a white picket fence on the living room wall even though he is never in the bloody apartment, because the Stark Industries have some crazy schedules).

She's getting married in 5 months and he can't do anything.

(But he could have done _something_ , and it's **killing him** ).

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She's laying on his bed, her forehead is pressed to his cheek and she is shaking and this is in _no way_ what he had imagined her first time on his bed to be like.

He imagined her happy, fingers tracing patterns across his face/shoulders/back, giggling lightly and flustered kisses and noses gently rubbing and all that lovely absurdly-wanted absurdly-wanted _soulful-desired_ romantic rubbish.

She was trembling and his shirt's collar's wet from her tears and she's murmuring words that break his heart a wee at a time, and this is the first time in his entire life he realises he can _hate_ someone, _hate_ with all his heart, _hating_ with the desire to smite someone out of the face of the earth.

He _hates_ her fiancée with all his might.

\- A-and I-I don't know Fi-fitz, I don't know anymore, I lo-love him so much, but he's never-ver happy!- she's sobbing so hard he feels the impact of her chest against him and his hands are also shaking, for a whole different reason.- I think he's regretting ever-everything!

\- He'd be a fool to do so, Jem.- and in the back of his mind he is hoping so whole-heartedly that Ward is having second thoughts about the wedding he feels guilty.

(But not for long)

She shakes her head and he feels mad that she doesn't believe him, that she doesn't see how amazing and beautiful and perfect and _everything-he-has-ever-wanted_ she is.

\- Grant is not like that, Fitz, he is not like that.- and she is so lost he finds himself in a lack of words.

He speaks three languages but none of them is soothing enough and pretty soon she is just crying and he whispers words of reassurance to her, softly and hesitantly, unsure of the outcome, doubting all the results, wishing for something but betting for something else.

\- He loves you.

( _I love you_ )

She hugs his back and his lips linger just above her forehead and he feels an urge to kiss her, to treat her like she deserves to be treated, to make her his.

\- He loves you.

( _I love you_ )

He can't stop saying, _he can't_ , because that's the only thing stopping him now, and she's _engaged_ , and he shouldn't (but he wants _so bad_ ) and he hopes she listens to the words he doesn't dare to voice, he hopes she feels it in the way his voice cracks and shivers and he wishes she was his.

\- He loves you, Jem.

( _ **I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU**_ )

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He leaves the bloody church in a haste, and Skye stares him like she's telling him ' _I told you so_ ' (and she really did, before the wedding, that morning, she whispered 'not today' and he wondered how she knew).

He gets his car and tears that stupid flower from his tux and goes to the nearest pub.

He is 4 beers in when a girl sits next to him and say:

\- You don't look well, mate.- her accent sound just like _hers_.

(The clock on the wall strikes 6:30pm and all he can think is ' _she's saying I do'_ and all he can listen is the bloody wedding march and he feels like he is being kicked to death).

\- You look like a runaway groom.- the girl says and she giggles lightly and he doesn't bother looking.

("Speak now or forever hold your peace" but he wasn't feeling so peaceful and he didn't even tell her in the right way).

\- So, did she break your heart?- the girl asks and she takes a sip from her beer and he finally looks her way.

(She's ginger, a constellation of freckles on her cheeks, green eyes, pale. He thinks she's pretty, but not Jemma-pretty).

\- I think I broke hers.

(Her name is Katie and she kisses his cheek and she smells just like berries).

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He was drunk that night, the night she looked for him, and he could see she was mad and sense she was hurt but he repeated to himself that _he didn't care, he didn't care, **he didn't**_.

(But she hates liars and he knows it).

She looked him in the eyes (she's a week away from the altar and the veil and another man's arms) and she asks him so tenderly (so _cruel_ , so _thoughtless_ , and he hated her for it and he hated his own guts for loving her and her black-stained heart):

\- Fitz... Is there any reason why I shouldn't marry Grant?

She _knows_.

She _knows_ and she's _begging_ him to say it.

( _Not right now, not like this, it's too bloody late_ ).

\- Anything Fitz.- and oh God her lips were trembling and her eyes were watery and her fists were closed so tight and she's shaking lightly.

(And oh God he wants to tell her so much but _he can't_ ).

\- _Anything_.- and she's starting to cry but he knew her better than to think her heart's broken.

(She placed her heart so out of reach, on top of a pedestal, hidden in a labyrinth behind a thousand locked doors, and all the keys are scattered across the universe, out of everybody's sight).

(But maybe he's already in and he's _destroying_ the maze from within).

And he finally says something, but it's not what she wants to hear and she slams the door on the way out and he feels like a monster.

(" _Go back to your husband, Jemma"_ and she was _sobbing_ ).

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She was perfect.

She was _everything_ and that wedding dress made him rethink everything.

(He couldn't let her get away, _he couldn't_ ).

\- Fitz!- she says, and she smiles and he feels his heart cracking.- How do I look?

She spins around and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

\- You look... Perfect.- he was almost choking and that bloody tie was too tight and the room was too small and he could hear the rumbling of footsteps downstairs, ready to walk her down the aisle and away from him.

( _But he can't let her get away_ ).

\- Jemma...

\- Yes?- she says, turning to the mirror, to fix some invisible flaw on her hair.

His mind is fighting his heart and it is all too painful and he doesn't know if he should say it but he wants to.

So he does.

\- _**Don't**_.

She doesn't understand him for a second, but they are connected, they are one, so she starts shaking her head and looking way too hurt for him to bear.

\- Don't marry him, Jemma.- he says, reaching for her hand, but she takes a step back.

\- Why are you doing this to me?- and he knows her so well he would be able to countdown for the tears.

\- Don't marry him Jemma.- he says again, starting to panic and getting mad because he can't let that happen.

\- _Why!?_ \- she yells, and there they are, the tears.

\- _Because **I love you!**_\- he yells back.

And he can't believe it, and she's crying and shaking her head and she says:

\- Get out! Get out of here, _get out_! I don't want to see you ever again, I hate you!

(Oh God what did he do?)

\- I'm sorry, Jemma. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry_...

And he repeats it a million times, but she keeps crying and finally she shoves him to the door and she is still yelling.

\- GET OUT, GET OUT, _GET OUT!_ \- he exits the room, but his hands are still trying to hold hers.

\- Jemma, please, I _lov-_

\- **I HATE YOU!**

And he runs to the front doors.

(And he never comes back).

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He goes on a date with Katie, and one turns into two, and two turns into a dozen, and a dozen turns into an invitation to live together and soon he is able to see himself with her, with the ginger girl from the pub.

(But he doesn't like thinking why he was there when he met her).

He never talked to Jemma after the wedding, and the last thing he heard, through Skye, is that Ward was doing pretty well at the FBI, and Jemma started working for some research lab.

He asks Skye to stop sharing these things with him.

He didn't want to know.

He had Katie now.

(And he always whispered it to her, _everyday_ , so he wouldn't be alone again, and he'd make sure she listened, and it was okay because it wasn't Jemma, and _Jemma hated liars but Katie didn't_ , so he smiled through it and he repeated it day after day after day, hoping the dopamine would kick in eventually).

(Jemma hated liars, but _if it was her he wouldn't be lying_ ).

(I **love** you).

( _Jemma_ ).

**Author's Note:**

> okay then, that's it guys. Not my best one, but I wrote this one in the middle of my chemistry class so bear with me. I knooow what most of you are thinking "simmons and ward? what in the shit?" but they are cute together (and they would have ridiculously good looking kids) and I got totally swooned during that bit where ward and simmons are talking and he imitates himself and aawwwnnn they are cute, and I needed someone for her to marry (i was so not going to write a simmons/coulson fic). Anyway, this one is kinda short, but i hope y'all didnt despise it (the plot is not the best i think). Well, thats it, thank you a billion times for reading it all, thank you thank you thank you, and if you could spare a minute to review it, it would totally make my day happier! If not, its okay, only reading it is already way more than what I could hope for! Well then, see ya later guys!


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